Coming of Age
by That Buggy Girl
Summary: [Side B fic] It's Michel's 18th birthday. That's the summary...It's yaoi. Did you expect more of a summary? [FreeXMichel YAOI]


**Title:** Coming of Age  
**Series:** Weiss Side B  
**Genre:** Romance  
**Rating:** PG16-ish  
**Warnings:** yaoi; one-shot  
**Pairing:** Free/Michel  
**Summary:** No summary...It's yaoi. Did you expect a summary?

**Notes:** This takes place 3 years after my much longer, unfinished fanfic, Torn. There is only one vague reference to Torn and this can certainly be read alone. I'm no good at writing sex scenes, but this is far smuttier than my most smutty to date.

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It was late.

The party had ended long ago, leaving a birthday banner drooping in the doorway of the so-called family room; half-eaten pieces of cake slowly going stale on a table. A bag full of garbage -wrapping paper, empty pop cans, plastic utensils- sat in front of the back door, patiently waiting to be disposed of properly the following morning. The occupants of the house had long since retired for the night, all of them having departed for their own rooms, more than ready for bed. All of them except…

White moonlight pooled through a small window, creating small puddles on silky sheets; pouring over the occupants of the bed. The older of the two seemed to glow in the moonlight, pale skin taking on a greenish sheen, feathery hair shimmering silver. His head was lowered, pressing soft kisses to tanned skin, hair tickling, causing the petite body beneath him to writhe and squirm.

As the kisses descended lower, a thought crossed his mind. How long had he waited for this day? How many years had he watched over the blond angel beneath him, waiting until he was old enough? He could have done it sooner; he had a willing enough partner. But pride and a stubborn sense of honor had kept him from acting, and he'd waited -waited- no one the wiser. Through hugs and cuddles and later on chaste, embarrassed kisses, he'd kept himself under control, waiting for the day when…

The body beneath him jerked, a soft moan escaping from a delicate mouth, as he found his prize. The birthday boy was whimpering, small fingers clutched in satin sheets, bright eyes squeezed shut. His skin was sensitive to the kisses and caresses; his mind in overdrive. Only in his dreams had he been held so lovingly, kissed by the mouth busy between his legs. Calloused fingers were gently caressing the insides of his thighs, driving him mad with pleasure.

He couldn't help his hips from twitching, couldn't help the groan that slipping out when that mouth pulled away only moments before…He wanted to cry at the loss of contact, but before he could protest, that wonderful mouth found his and began kissing him breathless, fingers moving to where a talented tongue had previously been.

He disentangled his fingers from the sheets, hands rising to stroke through fine hair. "S-st-stop teasing!" He managed to gasp out, "Please!"

His partner chuckled softly, gifting him with a rare smile. "Demanding, are we?" His voice was quiet, calm, like always, but the younger man could easily detect the underlying humor. "Are you sure you're ready?" The question was asked in all seriousness, even as one hand continued its fondling, the other rising to caress a flushed cheek.

"I've been ready for _years._" Came the breathy response. Green eyes shimmered with lust as small fingers traced along soft lips. "I always knew it would be like this someday…" He grinned, tossing thin arms around the man on top of him. "Oh Free, I always knew!" Michel had been counting the days until his eighteenth birthday -his coming of age- for the past two and a half years, knowing that then there would be no more excuses. He was an adult; he was consenting. The object of his affections could deny him no longer.

Michel would have kept gushing and Free knew it. Rather than let the young man keep it up, he pressed forward, claiming Michel's lips mid-sentence. The little blond instantly opened to the kiss, squeaking as a finger suddenly trailed along his backside.

The finger didn't stop, just kept up its probing quest until the tiny, tanned body was thrashing around among the sheets, a series of breathy little whimpers and moans escaping from a slender throat, followed by a chorus of "oh pleases." A second finger joined the first, followed soon after by a third, preparing the willing body for bigger, better things yet to come.

Michel's mind was working in overdrive. Free was kissing him. Free was _touching_ him. Intimately. Like he'd wanted for as long as he could remember. The man had magic fingers…Michel thought he would die then and there and they hadn't even gotten to the best part yet. His hips were twitching, rising slightly off the bed, and he could hear himself begging for more.

In what felt like the blink of an eye, there was a flash of searing pain, followed by white-hot pleasure, and the young man found himself suddenly on top, strong hands stroking his hips as the man below gave him time to adjust to the new invasion to his body. Michel shifted, sucking in a breath, then leaned forwards to kiss Free, small hands planted on the man's firm chest.

It was fast paced; a wild ride. There was no wasting of time, no dawdling over murmured words and syrupy promises. After so long of a wait, there could be time for that later. They were both desperate for one another; the sexual tension had been so strong the past year that the air had practically hummed with desire. Michel wondered fleetingly which one of them had exercised more discipline in this game of cat and mouse; but the notion flew from his mind along with any form of coherent speech and thought.

He couldn't think. He couldn't see. There was nothing but white noise and undeniable passion, fireworks exploding, that molten feeling pooling and coiling down deep, waiting to finally, _finally _be able to let go. He felt full. Complete. He was sure he was going to die, it felt that wonderful, when a soft cry ripped itself from his throat and he all but collapsed against Free's chest.

Still trembling with the aftershock, he curled against the older man, head resting beneath his chin. He could feel Free pressing soft kisses into his hair and those teasing fingers had turned soothing, stroking along his skin calmly as if trying to stop the trembles. He could hear Free's voice asking softly if he was okay, but couldn't seem to make his voice work to answer. He found the strength to nod somehow, just barely.

It felt like every bone had been extracted from his body. His skin was still tingling with little electric jolts as he burrowed closer, burying his face in Free's neck. "I…" His mouth felt like sandpaper; why was it so dry? He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, trying to wet his mouth so he could speak. "I love you!" He managed to breathe out, lifting his head and meeting Free's gaze, eyes shining.

Free smiled to himself, turning on his side and tucking his tiny lover neatly in the curve of his body, snuggling him close. Michel burrowed closer, pressing as near as possible, still shivering slightly. He was only vaguely aware of his surroundings; vaguely aware of the down comforter being pulled up over them. He sighed softly, content. All of the year's tension had magically melted away. Finally.

It had been positively surreal. One moment he was saying goodnight to Chloé and thanking him for the lovely sweater, the next moment he found himself half-naked in a pool of silk and moonlight, Free looming over him predatorily. It hadn't surprised him, really. He knew it would happen inevitably. It was the abruptness of it that caught him off guard. He'd hardly had time to think; half of what happened hadn't even fully registered, he'd been so caught up in the emotional and sensory overdrive.

_What will happen now?_ He wondered. _Will we be like a real couple? Or is this it? I don't want our relationship to stay on a friend level with the occasional night of sex._ He was suddenly worried. He was still very young, at least compared to Free. Yuki's not-so-secret secret boyfriend was at least their age. What if this was just special for his birthday? What if it hadn't been at all like Free had expected? What would he do if…? He nearly panicked for a moment, lost in a swirl of self-doubt and fear.

He snapped back to attention when Free nuzzled his hair, returning the "I love you" in a reverent whisper. He looked up, peering into haunted, tired eyes, searching for the truths they held. Their gaze caught and they stared at one another for a moment. Free was not a man who wore his heart on his sleeve by any means; his face held its usual unreadable expression. But there was something in his eyes…Adoration; complete and total. His dark gaze spoke volumes, if only you knew how to read it right.

Michel blushed lightly, burying his face in Free's neck. His heart was fluttering wildly in his chest; he expected it would burst at any moment. He was so happy. He knew there were no words he could speak to convey how he felt and he didn't want to make a damn fool of himself by trying. He had no desire to spoil the moment any more than he had by doubting what was to be.

Free pressed a kiss to his hair, drawing him closer still. He settled into the older man, inhaling the musky, incense-like scent that was Free's own. That scent, this warm body pressed against him…so safe, so warm. He had told Yuki once, in confidence long ago, that he had kissed Free and it was like home, but he hadn't truly understood that feeling until this moment.

"Happy birthday." Free's voice came as a rumbling purr as he spoke again, "I almost forgot to tell you." One large hand was fingering blond curls, the other stroking Michel's back affectionately, as if Free was determined to keep him close.

Michel curled close, looking up at him, eyes dancing. "Thank you," He grinned, "You easily made it the best birthday ever."

Free simply smiled.


End file.
